


Marks of Our Hearts

by beesknees (daffodil23)



Series: Marks of Our Hearts [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Destiel Minibangs, Destiel Valentine Minibang, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Medical Jargon, Paramedic!Dean, Pining, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Valentine's, injured!Cas, soulbond, teacher!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 23:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6028777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daffodil23/pseuds/beesknees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a paramedic for Lawrence Fire Department. It has been nine years since his soulmate mark appeared, and he is starting to lose hope of ever finding his soulmate. One rainy evening, Dean is called to a car accident where the occupant flipped his car. During his examination of the accident victim, Dean discovers the handsome, blue-eyed victim has a soulmate mark matching his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marks of Our Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> This is apart of the [Destiel Valentine's Minibang](http://destielvalentinesminibang.tumblr.com) on tumblr.
> 
> A big thank you to [stephmendes](http://stephmendes.tumblr.com) for the gorgeous artwork to accompany the fic.
> 
> Another big thanks to my hubby with all the help on the medical mumbo jumbo.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Monday, February 8**

 

"So, whadaya think? Is it a good plan?"

Dean stared down at the clear-top dining table, trying to focus on his brother's words and not the brightly colored fire patches decorating the layer under the plexiglass. The patches had come from different fire departments all over the country, and he would have given anything to be in one of those cities right now, not having this conversation with Sam.

He absentmindedly rubbed a spot at his hip under the starchy, navy blues of his uniform with the hand not holding his cellphone. To any person outside of Dean's immediate family, it would look like he was rubbing a sore spot or scratching an itch. He never talked about it, but a half inch in from the knobbiness of his right hipbone lay the location of his soulmate mark.

Dean bent over in his seat, chin falling to his chest. He propped his elbows up on his knees, carefully maneuvering the cellphone from one ear to the other. He shoved a hand through his short, light brown hair as his mind tried to digest the information Sam divulged.

His _baby_ brother planned to whisk his girlfriend away to a bed and breakfast for the long weekend and propose.

He knew it was all in his head, but it felt as if the mark burned with jealousy as Sam recounted more of his plans for Valentine's. He knew he shouldn't feel this way; he should be happy his little brother found his soulmate two and a half years ago at age nineteen. Some people went their whole lives without finding their soulmate.

Still, deep down, the envy burned with his own longing. It was two weeks past his twenty-sixth birthday, and his soulmate was nowhere in sight. Why did Sam get to be so lucky?

"Dean?" Sam's voice interrupted his musings.

"Yeah?" Dean answered, thumbing at the sharp corner of the table.

"Did you even hear what I said?"

Dean sighed, "Yeah, Sammy, I heard. It all sounds great. Jess'll love it."

"You don't think slipping the ring into her champagne flute is too much?"

Dean could hear the uncertainty in his brother's voice. If given the chance, the younger Winchester would probably plan the amount of raindrops to fall on Jess' nose if it rained the day he proposed. He wanted everything to be perfect.

"No," Dean chuckled softly. "Just as long as she doesn't swallow it."

A drawn out breath came through the speaker of Dean's phone. He knew his brother was nervous, but from what he knew of Jessica, she wouldn't care. Any way he did it would be special in her eyes.

The pang of jealousy flared again at his hip. Dean gently squeezed it before deciding he'd had enough engagement talk for one day. "Alright, college boy, I need to get goin'. Not that she'll say no, but let me know how things turn out."

"Yeah, sure. No problem, Dean. Thanks for listening," Sam said, clearing his throat.

"Anytime, Sammy." Dean immediately pressed the end button, clenching the mobile device in his hand. A few breaths shuddered out between his lips as he tried to calm himself.

Why was he getting so worked up?

Dean knew the exact reason. No matter how much he played off the thought of soulmates, he secretly yearned for the kind of love Sam and Jess had. He wanted someone to wish him a good night when he fell into bed and to greet him in the morning with the new dawn. Maybe he was suffering from a bout of loneliness, but he was tired of waiting. His soulmate had to be out there, somewhere.

 

*/*/*/*/*

 

Dean was thankful for the steady stream of emergency calls his station had received since talking with Sam. Some were bullshit, but it helped keep his mind from wandering to thoughts of soulmate marks and dying alone.

It was late afternoon, but the heavy cloud cover masked the position of the sun. Dusk was nearly an hour away. Dean was sunk down into a leather recliner next to his driver and EMT, Garth, in front of the big screen TV. Rufus and Kevin sat at the dining table playing cards while Benny leaned against the kitchen counter trying to decide on dinner. The five men were attempting to relax after clearing the third vehicle accident of the day. Everyone in their part of town seemed to have forgotten how to drive in the rain today, even though it was well into the winter months.

Moments later the tones for another vehicle accident filled the fire station. Cassie from dispatch called out over the speaker, "Lawrence Fire: Battalion 4, Truck 4, Medic 4...vehicle rollover with extrication, eastbound lanes near 5150 West Clinton Parkway."

Cassie's staticky voice came over the radio, "Repeating for Lawrence Fire: Battalion 4, Truck 4, Medic 4...vehicle rollover with extrication, eastbound lanes near 5150 West Clinton Parkway. Bystander reports solo occupant with major injuries entrapped in the vehicle."

The men scrambled into action, heading toward the apparatus bay. Dean and Garth climbed into the red and white ambulance while the others clambered for the ladder truck. Flashing, red lights filled the stark sky as the emergency vehicles pulled onto the long driveway leading to Wakarusa Drive. The growl of the truck's siren pierced through the pitter-patter of rain as tires hit pavement. The ambulance's siren wailed through the early evening sky as Garth navigated behind Benny and the fire truck.

Rufus' gruff voice rang over the radio, "Dispatch, Truck 4 enroute."

Dean added a breath later, "Dispatch, Medic 4 enroute."

The windshield wipers sloshed across the glass of the rig as the rain pelted down. Dean's pulse thrummed as Garth followed closely behind the shiny, red truck. He scanned all the traffic on the opposite side of the road, watching for their rollover.

After what seemed like an eternity, the wreckage came into view. Several cars were parked behind the flipped sedan with blinking, yellow hazard lights. Both emergency vehicles safely performed a u-turn farther down Clinton Parkway from the accident site, arriving on the correct side of the road. Tires squealed as the responders screeched to a stop on the wet road, alongside the damaged car.

Everyone jumped out of their respective transports, ready to spring into action. A sodden redheaded woman rushed toward the men, shivering from the pouring rain.

"We tried to get him out, but the door's jammed! He swerved to avoid hitting a deer and lost control!"

Dean stepped aside, trying to calm the woman down. "Miss, we are going to do everything we can to get him out. If you'd please step back, and let emergency personnel do what we are trained to do."

The woman nodded quickly, shaking again from the cold.

"What's your name?"

"Ch-Charlie," she replied, teeth chattering.

Dean reached into the ambulance, pulling out a gray, woolen blanket. "Alright, Charlie. Were you the one that called 911?"

She nodded again, eyeing the blanket.

Dean wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. "Well, you did a very good thing. Try to warm up, okay? The police will want to take a statement soon."

Charlie blinked the rain from her eyelashes and nodded once more.

Dean rushed to where the rest of his crew were working with the Jaws of Life to pry the door of the silver car open. The hydraulic spreader slid into the jamb of the driver side door, and pushed the metal apart like it was softened butter. Rufus and Kevin easily yanked the door open on its hinges to gain better access to the accident victim.

From the angle Dean was standing at, the male driver was dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt. Stripes of dark red painted the cotton fabric along his chest. He moaned softly as his head lolled to the side, facing toward the passenger seat.

"Hey, Winchester," Rufus called over his shoulder, "hand me some trauma shears from your bag, wouldja?"

Dean fished around the medical bag at his shoulder for the pair of black-handled scissors his captain requested. He handed the shears to Rufus, and watched as the other man cut through the thick material of the car's seat belt holding the victim in place. His body moved slightly when freed from the strap.

Kevin gingerly wrapped his arms around the man's torso and tugged, trying to ascertain if he was pinned under the steering column and dashboard. When the man didn't budge, Kevin called for the ram.

In seconds, Rufus wedged the hydraulic ram against the door frame and a piston extended up toward the dashboard, pushing it away from the trapped man. When there was enough clearance, the victim was pulled from the totaled car and placed on a backboard in front of Dean and Garth.

The man, who appeared to be in his late twenties, early thirties, groaned at the movement and winced in pain.

"Sir?" Dean said, trying to gauge the man's responsiveness.

Garth kneeled on the ground above the man's head, and carefully brought a face mask to cover his nose and mouth. Garth's thumb and forefinger gripped the mask loosely while using his other fingers to tilt the victim's chin skyward. He squeezed the inflated bag attached to the mask, slowly allowing the air to fill the face piece.

"My name is Dean," he informed, placing a hand at the man's left shoulder. "I am a paramedic with the Lawrence Fire Department. I need to examine you to see what injuries you sustained from your accident."

The man's bright blue eyes popped open, darting around wildly. His breathing was shallow and frantic. His hot breaths fogged the plastic of the mask in an instant.

"Hey, hey, you're okay. I know it's scary, but I need you to stay calm, alright?" Dean soothed. "Nice even breaths. Can you do that for me?"

The blue-eyed man gave a faint nod.

"Good," he praised. Dean reached for the medical bag at his side and grabbed the cervical collar. He turned to the man, eyes roving over the hard planes of his body.

The trails of deep red had thickened along the faded t-shirt since removing him from his car. Shards of glass littered the soft curls of dark hair. Blood oozed along the hairline at his left temple.

"I know it's kinda hard with the face mask, but can you tell me your name?" Dean asked, balancing the collar on his thigh.

The man blinked slowly, Adam's apple bobbing with his careful shallow. "Cas," he said, the name muffled. His eyes slipped shut as if it took every ounce of energy he had to mumble this one syllable.

"Cas?" Dean questioned. He received no response. "I'm gonna put this neck brace on ya because we don't want to cause any further injuries to your spine should you have any, okay?"

He slipped the plastic and foam brace around the nape of Cas' neck and velcroed it closed at the side farthest from him.

"Okay, Cas," Dean spoke, smoothing the scratchy strips in place. "Can you wiggle your toes?

Cas' eyes fluttered opened at the mention of his own name. Dean watched the slight movement to his left as toes brushed the tops of a pair of black Chucks from the inside.

He smiled down at the man. "Good. Thank you. No broken legs or feet since you didn't scream in pain," he said.

"I hope you ain't too fond of this shirt or your pants," Dean laughed breezily. "I need to cut them off ya to find where this bleeding is comin' from, okay?"

Dean used the same trauma shears Rufus had, and started his cut at the hem of the tattered blue t-shirt. He sliced up the middle of the fabric to the collar. He spread the two pieces apart, revealing a blood-streaked chest. Returning the scissors to the bag, Dean soaked a sterile gauze pad with saline solution, and skimmed it across tanned skin. The gauze sopped up any drying blood along the smooth expanse of skin, allowing for a better idea of what he was dealing with.

Cas' chest and torso was peppered with several lacerations, each a couple inches long. They were no longer bleeding, but he'd need stitches to close the wounds up.

The left side of his body was quickly purpling from the blow it took during the wreck. Dean lightly pushed against the older man's ribs. Cas let out a quiet groan. Dean crinkled his nose in sympathy, removing his stethoscope hanging around his neck. He stuck the earpieces inside his ears before placing the resonator against Cas' chest.

"Does it hurt when you breathe?"

"A...little," came the voice from beneath the mask.

Dean listened through a few breaths, trying to determine if a collapsed lung occurred during the accident. The lung sounds were shallower than he'd like, but that might be from Cas' panicked state.

"Chest tenderness. No clear indication of pneumothorax, but he should get a chest x-ray to rule it out and to check for fractured ribs," Dean mentioned to his partner. Garth nodded in agreement.

Dean took one more glance at the broad chest for injuries before sweeping his eyes to the flat belly and the soft patch of hair leading beneath Cas' belt line. On his hip, Dean noticed a dark mole or maybe even the edge of a tattoo peeking up from under the top of the jeans. He made a mental note to examine the area closer when he moved to the lower half.

He squeezed the fingers of Cas' right hand, carefully circling his wrist and bending his arm at the elbow. He softly prodded at the bare skin of the bicep, checking for anymore bruising or lacerations. Finding none, Dean moved to the left arm.

Cas sucked in a breath and moaned behind the face mask as Dean rotated his hand at the wrist like he did on the other side. He felt along the carpal bones, checking for any breaks. There wasn't anything obvious, just a lot of tenderness. Gradually moving up from the wrist, Dean's nimble fingers climbed the inside of Cas' forearm along the ulna to the crease of his elbow. Nothing unusual, just more bruising. It wasn't until he swept his fingers along the radius bone did he notice the bump about halfway up. He pressed gently and Cas nearly screamed in pain.

Dean winced at the sound of the man's pain. "Sorry, Cas!" he apologized. "Looks like you broke your arm."

Laying the arm down flat on the backboard, he turned to Kevin. "Tran, grab me a splint out of the rig, will ya?"

Kevin came back holding a rectangular piece of cardboard about eighteen inches long in his hands. Dean grabbed it, unfolding the flaps to create a boxy "u" shape. He cautiously slipped the broken arm into the splint before turning to the medical bag again, pulling out a roll of Kling wrap.

Starting at the fingers, Dean wrapped the gauzy material around Cas' arm and the cardboard splint. Cas whimpered as his arm was jostled about; Dean wished there was an easier, less abrasive way to complete his task. Making sure the arm was completely secure in it's cardboard cradle, Dean continued to wrap it until the Kling wrap roll ran out. He tucked the tail under several layers of the gauze to insure it wouldn't unravel on the ride to the hospital.

Without any discussion beforehand, Dean took the trauma shears to a pant leg and tore up the length to the waistband. He repeated the same action for the other side. Removing the ruined pants, he gazed at the strong legs on top of the yellow backboard. They were sprinkled with fine hairs and muscular. They were tucked into a pair of navy boxer briefs.

The blood Dean noticed on the pant legs of the faded jeans must have been from some other part of Cas' body. Miraculously, there wasn't a single scratch on either of his legs.

His eyes flit over every inch of the blue-eyed man's lower half, continuing his examination. Remembering the dark smudge at Cas' hip, Dean reached for the waistband of the boxers. Hooking a finger inside the elastic, he pulled the cotton material done to reveal a trinity knot wrapped around a heart.

Dean gasped, snatching his finger away like the underwear burned him. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to comprehend what he had seen etched into the skin of this stranger.

He knew exactly what he saw. The image was permanently burned into his brain from staring at a very similar mark on his own hip for the last nine years.

Thoughts spiraled around his head as he tried to make sense of it all. Was it possible? Had he actually found his soulmate?

He peeled the waistband of the boxers away from the dark haired man's skin methodically, trying to not draw any extra attention to the mark blemishing the tanned hip. Each millimeter pulled back revealed the darkened lines of the intricate pattern woven across Cas' flesh.

It was beautiful from a different perspective. Not staring him in the face through a bathroom mirror, marring his own freckled skin. Dean's eyes followed the endless loops of black lines swirling into three sharp points like a triangle. Nestled inside the points was a swooping heart in the same bold lines. Swaddled amongst the twisted curves of the trinity knot, in the empty spaces nearing the swell of the heart's sides a letter was formed in flowing calligraphy. On the left a "D," and on the right a "W."

Dean softly brushed a finger across his initials. A rush of tears flooded his eyes as he marveled at the inch wide mark.

"Dean?" Garth called.

His head shot up, pulling him from his thoughts. How long had he been sitting there caressing Cas?

"Yeah?" Dean replied, clearing his throat. He smoothed the waistband of Cas' boxers into place after dropping it.

"Is there anything else that needs to be addressed or can we move 'im?"

"Uh, no, man. We can move 'im," Dean said, crawling to get closer to Garth's end of the backboard.

He stared down at the closed eyelids of the injured man before him. _His soulmate._ He felt numb, in a state of disbelief. He'd finally found his "C.N."

Bending closer to Cas' face, he spoke, "Hey, Cas."

Cerulean eyes drowsily blinked open, not focusing on anything particular. Crinkles formed in the corners after landing on Dean's face.

Dean produced his own soft smile, wishing he could see the one underneath the breathing mask, unobstructed. He desperately wanted to comb his fingers through the dark curls at Cas' head, but willed his hands to stay put. "We are gettin' ready to move ya to the ambulance and head to the hospital. You doin' okay?"

Cas looked around, trying not to move his head too much. "Deer?" he mumbled.

"Deer?" Dean repeated, trying to understand the muffled word.

Cas nodded. "Okay?"

Dean didn't know. He didn't want to cause the poor guy anymore stress. There wasn't a deer around the accident scene, and the redhead had said Cas swerved to avoid it, right? "It's fine, Cas. You missed it."

Cas sighed in relief.

Dean and Garth stood, quickly accompanied by Benny and Kevin at the backboard. Garth stopped producing artificial breaths through the face mask while the others positioned themselves quickly; Dean on the left of the backboard while Benny was on the right. Kevin stood near the foot of the spineboard.

"Lift on three," Dean commanded. "One, two, three."

The three men lifted the backboard while Garth resumed squeezing the bag on the face mask. They tottered to the waiting, empty gurney in four steps, and placed their patient down. Cas groaned with the jiggling the emergency personnel's feet created.

They rolled the gurney to the back of the red and white ambulance before lifting it inside. Dean used the rig's bumper as leverage to hoist himself up into the back, scooting to Cas' head. "Still doing okay?" he asked in a near whisper.

"Hurts," Cas answered through the unmanned bag valve mask.

"I know it does," Dean cooed. "I'll give you something for the pain in just a sec."

He turned to the back of the ambulance, "Hey, Tran," Dean hollered, "I need you to ride along to the hospital and keep baggin' 'im."

The young firefighter hopped up into the rig and continued where Garth left off, squeezing the bag every six seconds.

The ambulance doors slammed shut as Dean gathered everything he needed to start an IV.

"Ready to head out, boss?" Garth asked from up front in the driver's seat.

Dean chuckled, "Yeah, Garth. Get-a move on."

As the ambulance rumbled to life, Dean leaned over the head of the gurney. "I'm gonna get an IV started, okay, Cas? I'll get you those pain meds I promised."

Cas didn't respond, just blinked slowly as his head rocked back and forth from the movement of the ambulance heading to the hospital.

Dean swabbed an alcohol square across the elbow crease of Cas' right arm, cleaning the area of anything on his skin. He deftly tied the rubber tourniquet at the bicep, constricting the blood flow. Observing the vein he had chosen one last time, he steadily pierced the skin with the beveled needle. Seeing the flash of blood in the catheter alerted Dean he hit the vein correctly. He advanced the IV catheter further into the skin until it wouldn't move any further. He quickly pressed down on the vein and removed the needle in one motion. Untying the tourniquet from Cas' arm, Dean tossed the blue, rubber strip aside before depositing the needle in the sharps container mounted inside the ambulance.

Turning back to the gurney and his patient, Dean reached for the long plastic tubing beside Cas, and plugged it into the opening of the catheter. He dialed the switch to open the drip and set it to the correct flow. Watching the saline enter the tubing, he then prepared five milligrams of morphine. He administered the drug through the IV tubing knowing Cas would be feeling better very soon. He peeled half of the backing off a tagaderm, and placed it over the catheter. He removed the other half's backing, and pressed the remaining sticky portion onto Cas' skin, securing the IV site. Further down his forearm, Dean taped the tubing with a piece of regular, white medical tape.

"Hey, Cas," Dean spoke up, trying to get the dark haired man's attention. He perched over Cas' shoulder, looking into his face. "The morphine workin', yet?"

Cas must have smiled because the crow's feet formed around his eyes again. "I like your freckles. Can I count them?"

Dean blushed pink across his cheekbones and let out a throaty laugh. He smiled at Kevin and replied, "I'm gonna take that as a yes."

"Pretty green eyes, too," a deep voice muttered under the face mask.

Kevin laughed a little harder. "Sounds like someone has a little crush."

Dean tried to contain his growing blush, but it was useless. "Nah, it's just the drugs talkin'," Dean replied, brushing off Kevin's comment.

It _was_ just the drugs, right? He didn't even know if the guy even swung that way. He must if his soulmate mark was to be trusted. A crush would make the transition into soulmates a lot easier, if it were true. Dean could only be so lucky.

Warm fingers broke his reverie as he looked down at the gurney to find Cas' hand wrapped around his own, clutching it tightly.

It's gotta be the drugs.

"Hang tight, buddy. We'll be at the hospital in about four minutes."

Cas gripped Dean's hand a little tighter in a silent understanding.

"They'll get you patched up," he continued, "good as new."

Dean hoped this was true, too. He'd known Cas all of ten minutes, but something inside him ached for this man to be healed. He wished, for a moment, he'd seen Cas without his mottled and bruising skin or bloody clothes. Or without the whimpers of pain and tear-streaked cheeks. He'd wanted to be taken back five minutes before the crash when that tanned skin was flawless and flecks of glass didn't accent a crown of thick, brown hair.

He then thought of how he would have felt if he'd known Cas before the accident and seeing his body now, broken and hurting. It nearly ripped his heart in two. He'd come so close to losing his soulmate before even meeting him.

And it scared him. He almost didn't meet Cas because of a stupid deer.

"You okay, man?" Kevin questioned, giving him a funny look. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

A cold sweat had prickled across Dean's brow at the thought of Cas being DOA. His stomach churned with the unpleasant thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just day dreaming," he replied. Dean scolded himself for thinking so morbidly. He needed to focus on the here and now and his very-much-alive soulmate. There was no need to dwell on the what-could-have-beens.

Dean had never been so grateful to pull up to the hospital as he was in that moment. Cas would heal and their lives could begin. That's only _if_ Cas wanted a soulmate.

What if he didn't?

A sweet voice drifted through Dean's head and it could only be that of his mother's.

"Why wouldn't he want you?" she asked. "You are quite the catch. Handsome, caring, loyal, funny, smart. He'd be lucky to have you."

A grin tugged at his lips from the praise his mother was spouting inside his grapefruit. But, it would be Dean's type of luck to find his soulmate (which he didn't believe in eighty percent of the time) and be rejected. This what-if stung the most.

What if he didn't want _me_?

Tears smarted at the corners of his eyes, and he quickly blinked them away before hopping out of the back of the ambulance. A team of ER personnel approached the gurney as they rolled into the hospital building.

"The patient is a conscious male, late-twenties, early thirties. Victim of a single car rollover. Broken left radius, multiple contusions on the left side of his torso. Possible broken ribs and pneumothorax. Breaths sounds were clear, but he was complaining of pain while taking breaths. Multiple lacerations along arms, face and torso. Five milligrams of morphine was administered enroute via IV," Dean informed the hospital staff.

He took one last look at Cas as he was wheeled away to be treated, silently promising to return after his shift ended tomorrow morning. He desperately wanted to follow down the hallway, stay by his soulmate's side, but he couldn't just take off without reason. He wasn't sure he wanted to announce he'd found Cas without knowing for sure the man even wanted a soulmate in return.

He reluctantly left the hospital with his crew. The next fourteen hours would be the hardest of Dean's life.

 

*/*/*/*/*

 

**Tuesday, February 9**

 

"Who ya lookin' for?" a voice came from over Dean's right shoulder.

He paused in his not-so-discreet search for the blue-eyed man he brought into the hospital yesterday evening. He'd been going around to the different patient rooms when he was caught.

"Oh, hey, Lisa. I'm, um, looking for someone we brought in yesterday," he answered quietly.

The pretty brunette furrowed her brow, trying to figure out why Dean would be looking for a patient he brought in. "Okay," she said, dragging out the last syllable. "Got a name?"

Dean hesitated, "A name?"

Lisa nodded, folding her arms over her chest.

"Uh, yeah. His name- his name is Cas."

Lisa walked over to the nurses station, bringing one of the computers to life by wiggling the mouse. "Got a last name?"

Dean blushed and shook his head no. He didn't want to let on exactly why he was there, so he lied. "I just wanted to check up on him. He was in pretty bad shape on scene."

"Mmm hmm," she remarked with a bright smile. The computer's keyboard clacked as she inputted information onto the screen. "A Castiel Novak is in room 157."

Dean's body started humming at the prospect of being close to Cas again. He practically bounded down the hallway to reach his room.

Lisa called out behind him, "Dean- Dean wait!"

Dean ignored all of Lisa's protests for him to stop.

He skidded to a halt as he peered inside the room the nurse had identified as Cas', his smile dropping into a thin line. Cas was lying in the bed as if he was asleep, but Dean knew different. There were too many wires and tubes attached to his body, machines whirring and beeping beside him at the bedside.

"After he was brought in, he was having trouble breathing and slipped into a coma," Lisa spoke softly at Dean's side. "There was swelling in his brain from his accident and he just fell under."

A tightness started to accumulate in Dean's chest as he watched, listening to the heart monitor beep. It felt as if a vice was clamped around his heart and just squeezing. His fists balled at his sides as little half moon shapes embedded into the skin of his palms. He used all his might not to allow the tears forming in his eyes to fall. He needed to be strong, especially in front of Lisa.

"Is he..." he cleared his throat, trying to sweep away any sign of emotion sinking in. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"He should be. They got him on dexamethasone to reduce the swelling. He should wake up in a day or two," Lisa replied, watching Dean as he watched the man in the bed. His eyes shimmered as he tried to remain stoic. She reached up and gently stroked his upper arm.

Dean looked down at her hand and knew he wasn't fooling her. He knew she knew he wasn't there to "just check up on Cas."

"H-has anyone been by to see 'im, yet?" Dean asked, fixing his gaze back on his soulmate.

"Not that I know of," Lisa supplied.

Dean's heart clenched even harder at her answer. Was Cas all alone? No family?

"Why don't you go sit with him," Lisa said slyly. "I'm sure he'd enjoy it."

Dean turned to look at her, trying to read her face. All he saw, though, was her usual bright smile. "Would that be okay?"

"Yeah, sure," she answered, pushing him toward the hospital bed and it's occupant. "Might do him some good."

"Thanks, Lis," he breathed out, facing the doorway.

Lisa smiled one last time at Dean before heading back to the nurses station.

For a few moments after the nurse left, Dean just stood observing the subtle chest falls of the man lying in the bed. An overwhelming feeling and urge to want to take Cas' place washed over him. He'd known the man for less than fifteen hours, but the pull to take away all his pain was immense. He would have done anything in that moment to trade places with Cas if it meant he was no longer hurting.

Dean dragged an empty chair over closer to the bedside and lowered himself into it. His eyes raked over the resting body before him. Cas' hair was matted to his head in a dark, tangled mess, curling around his ears. His long eyelashes fluttered at the edge of twitching, unopened eyes. Dean hoped he was fighting his way toward consciousness. There was a cut at the bridge of his straight nose. A slight pink flush colored his cheeks. Two days stubble peppered his jaw and chin. Full, chapped lips were wrapped around a clear breathing tube where he was intubated.

In his line of work, Dean had seen a lot of sick and injured people, but he'd never reacted the way he was now. It almost physically hurt him to see Cas like this, tubes running every which way in and on his body. He warily scooped up a battered hand from the scratchy sheets of the bed.

"Heya, Cas," he croaked. He sat silently as he gathered his thoughts, stroking his thumb against the split knuckles of Cas' hand.

"I never understood the hype of soulmates or soulmate marks. I thought, 'Yeah, it's great. You found another person with your same disfiguration. Yippee.' I just didn't get it.

"Sammy tried to explain it to me once after he met Jess. He tried to explain everything he felt after he'd found her. He tried to tell me about this wholeness he felt, a feeling of completeness whenever he was around Jess. I brushed him off, of course, not believing because he could be such a girl sometimes. But, I get it now, Cas. In the brief time I was with you yesterday, I felt it.

"When Sammy told me about his plans for this weekend, I'll admit I was jealous. I'm so happy for him and Jess, but God did I want that for myself so bad. I couldn't figure out why I had to wait while his soulmate was right under his nose. It didn't seem fair at the time, but now I understand. I was just looking for you."

He rubbed the hand not holding onto Cas across his mouth and chin, the scratch of his unshaved face sounding in the almost quiet room. "So, what I need you to do, Cas..." he started before letting out a slow breath.

"I need-," Dean's voice wavered, "I need you to wake up and be okay. I need you to make this feeling of wholeness stick around." He paused to suck in a breath before continuing, "Cas, I need you. Because I don't know what will happen if, after nine years, I finally find you and you slip through my fingers."

A tear slipped over his lower lash line, slowly rolling downward only to be brushed away seconds later. Dean brought the broken skin of Cas' knuckles to his lips and kissed them lightly. "You gotta wake up, Cas."

 

*/*/*/*/*

 

**Saturday, February 13**

 

Dean had returned to the hospital every day at the start of visiting hours for the last three days and didn't leave until Lisa or one of the other nurses kicked him out. He only left the hospital room assigned to Cas to grab a coffee from the cafeteria or to use the restroom. He felt funny talking the ear off of a coma patient, but it seemed to soothe the giant hole inside him, gradually growing bigger with each day that passed.

So, it came as a shock to Dean to find a gray-haired woman in room 157 instead of Cas late Saturday morning. Dean kicked himself for choosing to tidy around his apartment and start a load of laundry instead of heading straight to the hospital when he woke up.

He hustled back to the nurses station to find Lisa sitting at a computer. She looked up as he approached. "Hey, Dean."

"Where is he?" Dean asked, trying to not let the panic rise up.

"Who?"

Dean shook his head in disbelief. "Don't play dumb play, Lisa. You damn well know who I'm looking for."

"Castiel Novak was discharged an hour ago," Lisa responded, looking at the computer screen.

"What?!" Dean hissed. "He was discharged?"

"He woke up about nine-thirty last night, and was very adamant about going home. The on-call Doctor strongly advised against him going home, but he's a stubborn one, Dean."

"So they just let him go?!" Dean could definitely feel the panic bubbling up now. How was he going to find him? He jammed his fingers into his short hair, tugging at the strands. His breaths came out in short pants.

"I can't say it was a wise decision, but yes, he was discharged."

"Fuck, Lisa," he said under his breath. "You gotta help me."

Lisa sat in shock as she watched the anguish war across Dean's face. "With what?"

Dean took in a deep breath, "I need his address. I gotta find 'im."

"Are you high?" she asked incredulously, getting to her feet. "I can't give you a patient's address!"

"Please, Lis," Dean begged, "I need to find 'im."

"Why Dean? Why's it so important?"

"It just is! You gotta do this for me," Dean explained, starting to lose his patience.

"No, Dean. You need to give me more than that," she replied, crossing her arms.

"I can't. You just gotta trust me," Dean implored.

"No, I could lose my job, Dean."

Dean's green eyes shone with unshed tears, his bottom lip trembled. "Please. You can't understand what will happen if I let him get away."

"Then help me understand," she requested, reaching for his hand.

"I can't-"

"Then, neither can I," she interrupted. "I'm not going to risk everything for a piece of ass!"

Dean jerked his hand away, staring at his friend in astonishment. His eyes roamed to the other nurses milling around. He lowered his voice to barely above a whisper, "He's not just some piece of ass, Lis. He's my soulmate. I saw his mark when I was examining him on scene."

Lisa gasped, raising her manicured hand to cover her mouth.

"So, now? Do you see why I need to find 'im?"

She shook her head in protest. "I'm sorry, but I can't."

Dean slammed his fist down on the countertop. "Dammit, Lisa!"

The brunette jumped back in surprise. Dean's eyes pinched shut, breathing in deep to calm himself. He knew he was screwed if he couldn't find a way to convince Lisa to give him the information he needed.

"Please, I'm begging you," he said, sorrow dripping from every word. "Imagine if I hadn't been the one to introduce you to Matt. Imagine you'd met him briefly somewhere else and he disappeared like dust in the wind. Wouldn't you do everything you could to find him, knowing he was your soulmate?"

"That's not fair, Dean," Lisa muttered.

"You think what you're doing to me is?" Dean seethed. "Just give me the address. There's no way this will come back on you."

Lisa looked Dean in the eye and back to the computer sitting on the desk. She was clearly weighing all her options. She let out a deep sigh. "I swear to God, if this comes back to bite me in the ass, I'm taking you down with me."

Dean grinned broadly as he watched her scribble down his soulmate's address on a scratch piece of paper. He rushed around the desk of the nurses station, and swallowed Lisa up into a huge hug. "Thank you, Lis. You won't regret this."

She handed him the paper and huffed out, "I better not."

Dean glanced down at the slip of paper before rushing off toward the parking garage, beaming ear to ear.

 

*/*/*/*/*

 

Twenty-three minutes later, Dean found himself sitting outside a blue-gray bungalow wringing his hands around the steering wheel of his car. He looked out the passenger side window at the front of the house. Bright yellow daffodils lined the front walkway to the porch with bold-colored English primroses mixed in between. White wooden blinds on the front windows were cracked open to let in the early afternoon sunlight.

Dean started second-guessing himself the moment he pulled up in front of the house. His thoughts kept drifting back to the conversation he had with himself on Monday when he was in the ambulance with Cas. He couldn't just go barging up to his front door proclaiming to be his soulmate when he didn't even know if the man even wanted a soulmate. Was he proactively looking or had he thought the concept of soulmates a bunch of hooey? Dean had no way of knowing, and he wouldn't know unless he tried. All he needed to do was open his car door, walk up the flower-lined sidewalk, and knock on Cas' front door.

Instead, he started the car's engine and drove away.

 

*/*/*/*/*

 

Later that evening and a half bottle of cheap whiskey later, Dean dialed the number for his brother's cell phone. He knew he wouldn't pick up because he was off being romantic at a B & B with his soon-to-be-fiancée. Dean wanted to get the whole situation off his chest and maybe talking about it to a voicemail box would give him some clarity on this Cas thing.

Sam's phone rang four times before voicemail picked up. After the beep, Dean started in on his story, "Hey, Sammy. I know you're busy and away with Jess, but I needed to talk. I did somethin' stupid. I found my soulmate, Sammy. He flipped his car avoiding a deer, of all things. I've been visitin' him at the hospital everyday while he was in a coma, but he checked himself out today. I begged Lisa for his address. She'll probably get fired, but I had to find 'im, Sammy. I was sittin' outside his house just starin', worried he wouldn't like me or want me for a soulmate. What if he doesn't believe. I felt that way for a long time. I didn't believe there was anyone out there for me. But, now I found 'im, and I'm _so_ scared he doesn't even believe in the idea of soulmates. "

He chuckled into the mouthpiece of his phone, "I'm so damn stupid, Sam." He sighed before hanging up.

Dean quickly dialed his battalion chief's number. A gruff voice came over the speaker, "'Ello."

"Hey, Bobby. I found my soulmate this week, and he was in a coma. Now, he's awake and I suck."

"Dean?"

Dean laughed, "Yeah, it's me."

"Boy, are you drunk?"

"Pptff, no," he paused. "Maybe."

"You better sober up or you'll be hatin' life tomorrow. You got work," the older man scolded.

"That's why I'm callin'. I need to go talk to him."

"Who?"

Dean groaned, "My soulmate, Cas. Keep up, old man."

"You found your soulmate?"

"Have you not been listenin'?" Dean scoffed. "Yes, I found 'im. I drove to his house today, but I chickened out. I'm gonna do it tomorrow, so I'm callin' in sick."

"Yer lucky yer practically family. Anyone else, I'd whip their hide so fast," Bobby said sternly.

"Thanks, Bobby."

"Don't screw it up, kid," Bobby remarked.

"Y'know me," Dean started.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Dean pulled the phone away from his ear, the other line had gone dead. He barked out a loud laugh, "He hung up on me."

 

*/*/*/*/*

 

**Sunday, February 14**

 

Dean winced at the bright sun peeking out behind the clouds. The ibuprofen he'd taken when he woken up hadn't quite kicked in, yet. The dull pain in his head throbbed at his temples while a sharp pain stabbed at the back of his right eyeball. He drew in a deep, calming breath and wrenched the driver side door of his car open. He walked up the neatly swept sidewalk to the front door and pressed the doorbell.

Inside, he could hear murmured words and scuffled steps. He clutched at the sunny bouquet of flowers he held in front of his chest, trying to hide any notion of his heart nearly beating out of his chest.

He was going to tell Cas everything, he'd decided in his drunken stupor. If Cas didn't want him, he'd just deal with the repercussions later. And fuck him if he didn't want Dean. According to his mom's imaginary voice in his head, he was a great catch.

The door swung open to reveal a waif-looking redhead. She looked at Dean and his flowers in confusion. "Can I help you?"

The words stalled in Dean's throat. They were stuck like a fly in a spider's web. He tried to clear his throat, but it didn't seem to help. The woman's eyes narrowed as Dean continued to say nothing. Finally, in a high squeak, words tumbled from Dean's lips, "I'm looking for Cas?" Why did it come out sounding like a question?

Movement behind the woman drew Dean's attention. Stepping into the entryway shuffled up a bruised and battered form. Dean's eyes widen as he took in his soulmate. He didn't remember him being so handsome. He was screwed if the guy thought he was an asshat.

The woman turned to Cas in the doorway, "He says he's looking for you. Do you know him?"

Cas looked Dean up and down from head to toe. "He's the man of my dreams."

Dean blushed hard. He was certain he was was the color of ketchup. "I dunno about that, but-"

"You are," Cas interrupted. "You were the man I was seeing in my dreams while I was in my coma. But, how are you here now?"

Dean cleared his throat once more. Here goes nothing. "Castiel Novak, my name is Dean Winchester. You don't know me, but I helped pull you from your car when you flipped your car trying to avoid a deer. I'm a paramedic for the Lawrence Fire Department. While examining you for injuries after the crash, I saw your soulmate mark on your hip. It's a trinity knot wrapped around a heart."

Cas stared at him, mouth gaping like a fish.

"I have the same mark in the same location, except," Dean stopped to pull down the waistband of his jeans, "mine has the initials 'C.N.' in the heart."

Cas continued to look on, speechless.

"I've been visiting you everyday in the hospital waiting for you to wake up, but you decided to do it Friday night after visiting hours. I showed up on Saturday to find an old lady in your room."

"You were the paramedic with the freckles. H-how did you find me?" Cas asked, trying to blink away his muddled thoughts.

Dean gulped. He knew it would come up. He just hoped Lisa didn't get into any trouble for it. "Uh, I kinda begged my friend, one of your nurses, for your address." He grimaced as the woman beside Cas gasped at the information.

He looked between the woman and Cas, eyes flitting back and forth. "I know it was a little unethical of her-"

"A little?!" the woman practically screeched.

"Anna, please," Cas placated.

"You have to understand, I wasn't even sure I believed I had a soulmate waiting for me. It's been nine years since this mark showed up. I'd pretty much given up hope, especially when my kid brother found his soulmate two years after his mark appeared. But, I knew I couldn't let you slip away," Dean tried to reason, staring at the flowers in his hand.

"Try waiting eleven years," a deep voice informed.

Dean's head shot up, "Yeah?"

Cas nodded his head in confirmation. "You have no idea how hard it is watching seventeen-year-olds file into your class everyday with their soulmate on their arm while you are still pining away year after year."

"You're a teacher?" Dean asked, marveling at the man standing before him.

"Yes," Cas answered, "I teach U.S. History at the high school."

Dean smiled, "That's great."

Cas smiled a reply.

"Uh, these are for you," Dean mumbled, sticking the flowers out in front of himself.

Cas took the bouquet and sniffed the flowers. "They're beautiful. Thank you, Dean."

Anna rolled her eyes and stormed out of the entryway, red hair flowing behind her.

"Don't mind her. She's still mad I checked myself out."

"No offense, Cas, but I have to agree with her. You should have spent another day in the hospital," Dean remarked, eyes following the fiery redhead.

"Nonsense. I had a soulmate to meet."

Dean laughed, "You could have still met me in the hospital."

"Yeah," Cas quipped, "but I wouldn't have wanted our first kiss to happen in a hospital bed." Cas moved closer to Dean, wiggling his arms around Dean's waist. The extra weight of his cast a noticeable difference against Dean's side. The flowers were smashed into his back.

Dean's heart drummed in his chest. Cas wasn't rejecting him. He wanted to kiss him. A smile spread across his lips.

"Can't argue with you there," Dean agreed, shuffling closer to Cas' body. He looped his arms around the dark-haired man's neck, pulling him closer.

"You could try, but I'm very stubborn."

Dean laughed again, "So I've heard."

Their lips met for the first time as they stood in the entryway to Cas' home. Much better than any hospital bed, by far.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me [here](http://deanisthebeesknees.tumblr.com) on tumblr.
> 
> I'm nice, I swear! :)


End file.
